A Pregnant Pause

It was the stuff fairy tales are made of; two young lovers united at last.

Their paths had crossed often and they had exchanged many a glance during their time at University, but it was only in the final year that Chris plucked up enough courage to ask her for a date.

Sarah was a stunning beauty, blonde and blue-eyed, but her reputation for frigidity had deterred one suitor after another.
But she had found the ideal match in Chris, so it was no surprise to her when she was told:

'I think I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you.'

'I'd like that very much', she had coyly replied.

After graduating, they had settled in a small English village in the middle of nowhere.

The locals had at first resented their arrival as they looked out of place in a rural community but the majority had become accustomed to see the young couple walking hand in hand along country lanes.
It was only the older generation that disapproved of their presence.
They shook their heads and grumbled:

'It should not be allowed; in our days young people got properly married and had children.'

The question of children was an insurmountable obstacle for Chris and Sarah - and the only solution would have been the sperm bank - but the thought never crossed their mind.
They were happy with their quiet, yet idyllic, existence and continued living in sin.

Sarah was content to look after the house and garden - a waste of a good degree according to her mother - while Chris became the breadwinner working as a stockbroker and commuting to the City every day.

And things would have carried on smoothly had Sarah not noticed with alarm that her partner was staying later at the office and coming home at ungodly hours, so that she had to eat by herself.
She could not get out of her head the niggling suspicion that Chris might be having an affair.
Sarah thought she had had found the proof when she discovered a note in the pocket of a pair of trousers she was about to wash.
Visions of predatory females flashed through her mind, but the signature on the message, which gave the time and place for a meeting, was Jonathan.
She was flabbergasted: girls she could have understood; but a man!

That afternoon Chris came home earlier than usual.
Sarah was pacing the garden, furiously thinking how she was going to handle the situation, and felt like dying when she heard the dreaded words:

'I'm leaving you.'

While tears started to roll down Sarah's cheeks, Christine sat in a garden chair, crossed her long, shapely legs and, after a brief pause, added:

'I am pregnant.'

© Luigi Pagano 2003